Cubs Win! Cubs Win! Holy Cow!

I've spent the last few weeks biting my tongue, biding my time, waiting for the announcement: the Cubs are in the playoffs! After 27 years of being a Cub fan, you learn to keep your expectations in check. Time after time, this team has broken my heart; unfortunately, I have a very long memory. I can remember, with a great deal of clarity, the exact moment Steve Garvey smashed my dreams. I still dislike that guy with a passion. Don't even talk to me about Leon Durham. Remember Greg Maddux, the great young Cubs pitcher who defected to Atlanta? I cursed the day he returned to the Cubs a couple years back. In fact, Maddux still retains the number 3 position in my Top Ten Hated Athletes list.

So, I spent the last two weeks holding my breath, waiting for the Cubs to clinch the division. I kept my excitement to myself, fearing that any kind of open enthusiasm would invoke some long forgotten baseball hex. When I tried to share the briefest flicker of hope with another Cubs fan, I was met with a rebuke. She said, "Sshhhh. Don't talk about it. Just don't." And you know what happened that very night? The Cubs lost their second game in a row and went on to be swept by the Marlins. That was my fault, I just know it.

I posted back on April 2 that this is the Cubs year. Is it? Probably not. They'll break my heart for the umpteenth year . . . and I'll be pulling for them every last second of the disaster. Who knows, maybe they'll surprise me this year.

Go Cubs!

Empty

Empty and calm and devoid of self
Is the nature of all things.
No individual being
In reality exists.

There is no end or beginning,
Nor any middle course.
All is an illusion,
As in a vision or a dream.

All beings in the world
Are beyond the realm of words.
Their ultimate nature, pure and true,
Is like the infinity of space.

-Prajnaparamita

Conversational Realities: Slut Roommate

Overheard while walking across campus.

Person #1: You lost?
Person #2: I'm just waiting for my slut of a roommate.

Life, The Universe, and Everything

Life. Oddly enough, I've had this conversation with several colleagues. Some [professors think college is about producing a product, a skill set that increase a person's chance of success in the workplace. I, on the other hand, am all about raising the big questions regarding life. What's our purpose? Who are we? What does it mean to be an ethical human being? How do we co-constitute the answers to all these questions by way of rhetoric? Most of my classes, but not all, reflect my personal bias. In the course of engaging these questions, I'd like to think that students become better writers, improved speakers, and proficient critical thinkers. My main goal, however, is to encourage students to become increasingly self-reflective about their own place in the universe. If I'm just handing them a toolbox consisting of how to impress in that interview, how to influence patrons/customers, and how to persuade coworkers that a plan is the best choice, then I'm doing something wrong.

The Universe. Amazing. I'm still baffled as to how astronomers are able to make these kinds of observations. Baffled, but amazed. I guess I'm still a photograph-from-the-rover kind of guy.

And Everything. Everything is change; change is everything.

Performing Pareidolia

I submitted the following abstract as part of a potential panel for an upcoming conference.

Pareidolia and the Space of Communicative Praxis: Performing Mystery in the Presence of the Metaphysically Transcendent Other.

This essay examines communication regarding pareidolia--the act of perceiving a distinguishable pattern or likeness, typically a thing or person, in a random image--as a means by which the self performs the extraordinary and unknowable in the midst of the everyday mundane. Negotiating the always already subject positions of both self and other within the communal moment of the communicative encounter, a moment Calvin Schrag describes as the space of communicative praxis, embodied human agents cooperatively reify and subvert cultural institutions and discernments. An analysis of the communicative discourse and action surrounding perceived encounters with the metaphysically transcendent other via pareidolia--the likeness of Jesus on a tortilla, a demonic visage in the smoke of the World Trade Center, or a Virgin Mary formed from chocolate drippings--offers an opportunity to explore how the self resists the hegemonic discourses of science and attempts to reclaim a sense of the mystical, the magical, and the mysterious.

I'm also reworking the Battlestar Galactica abstract/proposal for the umpteenth time. The question of the hour: to what convention should I submit my BSG work? Should I submit to the RSA convention in Seattle or the PCA convention in San Francisco?

Feast-o-licious

Friday's Feast for Friday, 7 September 2007:

Appetizer--Using only one word, how does grocery shopping make you feel?
Hungry.

Soup--What is your favorite part about the season of Autumn?
Autumn is, by far, the most amazing season here in the Corn Furnace. The temperatures are just right (70s) and the air is filled with the scent of decaying leaves. Mmmmm.

Salad--Have you ever had any bad experiences online?
I once had a used bookstore try to scam me out of some money. I ordered the book and, three days later, the company closed shop. Thankfully, I ordered the book via Alibris.com and received a total reimbursement.

Main Course--Name three things that make you happy daily.
Coffee, STK, TLO

Dessert--What one household cleansing or organizing item would you not want to be without?
My computer. I can't imagine keeping lecture notes, class assignments, and research organized in any other way.

More of the Same

Surprise, Surprise, Surprise.

::bangs head on desk::

Airing Out

Where does the time go? I think to myself, almost every day, "I need to write a blog post about X, Y, or Z" and then it doesn't happen. I swear I need another four hours in the day. Random stuff bouncing around in my head follows.

• The school avoided major flood damage and sand bagging was not required. It was a close call, though, as water was a foot or two from the top of the dike. Small parts of the campus did flood--a couple athletic fields--but major structures were spared. We drove through this area yesterday afternoon, an area we pass through at least once a month, and the amount of flood damage blew my mind. I had no idea the major flooding was occurring just 45 miles to the northeast.
• I had an odd dream a couple nights back, odd in content and odd in that I remembered the dream. I'm not one who typically remembers dreams. Although I'm not positive about the exact context, I believe the dream occurred during my late 20s. I'm single, completely lacking in any dating confidence, and terrified to even approach a woman I deem attractive. That's a pretty accurate description from back then. I was pathetic, actually, and went through one phase where I didn't date for three years. In the dream, I muster up the courage to ask Katie Sackhoff out on a date (she wasn't a television star in the dream, just a person. Or maybe she was Katie Sackhoff playing the role of a regular person. Confusing.). She says, "Yes" but I keep wondering if she's really interested in me or just being nice. The End. Obviously, some of my "Am I good enough" issues are bubbling in the back of my mind. That's STK's analysis, actually.I've spent more time wondering why it was Katie Sackhoff in my dream. Katie Sackhoff isn't an actress to whom I've devoted much time, if any. I don't think I've ever given it much thought as to whether I consider her attractive or not. STK assured me that Sackhoff is my type and that kicked off a discussion as to whether I even have a type.
  
• I've received several communiques from Iraq--a handful of emails and a phone call--and A is doing well. He can't really say too much about what he's actually doing, but he assures me he's safe and hasn't seen anything to threatening. Let's hope that continues.
  
• Interlibrary loan emailed today and let me know that my request--Rebirth of Dialogue: Socrates, Bakhtin, and The Rhetorical Tradition--awaited pick-up. I gave a cheer when the email arrived in my Inbox. Geek time! Excellent!
  

Why I Love Fandom: Reason #323

Where else would someone get excited about a comic book cover and exclaim:

OMG, naked flaming Faith! *faint*

You can see the faint inspiring comic book cover at this location. As it's a comic book cover, we're talking Safe For Work.

Doing the Tango

I've added And Tango Makes Three to my Barnes and Noble wish list. Any book that hits the "most challenged" list is a "must have" for our family library.

Here's one of the comments from the B&N reviews:

What is our world coming to? Children in preschool are not ready to tackle this subject yet. How would you all feel if we brought in a story straight from the Bible? Now let's talk tolerance. I am a teacher, a mother and a liberal, but not this liberal.

Um, aren't preschoolers tackling the subject of families on a regular basis? If preschoolers are ready for a story with a mommy and daddy, they're ready for this book. In fact, if we're ever going to see true tolerance--acceptance would be even better--for anything other than the "traditional" heterosexual model of parenting, books like this are a must.

Suntory Time

Bill Murray is one of my favorite comedic actors. Stripes, Ghostbusters, What About Bob, and Groundhog day are films I've watched over and over and over. I absolutely love Lost in Translation and I'm probably the only person on the planet who thinks Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is comedy brilliance ("We'll send him a red cap and Speedo.")

I have to say, Murray's latest escapade gave me a good chuckle.

Drunk Driving Swedish Golf Cart.

At least it wasn't a car, right?

Deluge

I have never seen so much rain. Since Thursday or Friday, we've been hit with rain every single day. I'm not talking a Colorado rainstorm that drops a quarter of an inch in fifteen minutes, but honest to goodness Midwest downpours that last for hours. Weather reports put our monthly rainfall total at 12 inches, three-quarters of that total in the last few days. Even when it's not raining, the humidity doesn't drop much below 90 percent; one step outside and it's like you just walked out of the shower.

To top it all off, the river that runs through town is at flood stage and threatening part of campus. I received an email this afternoon asking school employees to watch for an announcement regarding the possibility of sandbag work Thursday and Friday. Now that's something that doesn't appear in your Inbox every day. If we receive much rain tonight, and radar suggests there's more headed this way, I could be hip deep in river water, sand, and burlap by tomorrow afternoon.

Feast 156

Feast One Hundred & Fifty Six
August 17th, 2007

Appetizer--Describe your laundry routine. Do you have a certain day when you do it all, or do you just wash whatever you need for the next day?
Wash running clothes--shorts, shirts, socks, various ankle/knee braces--a couple times a week. For general washing, clothes are sorted into whites, darks, and blacks. Dress clothes are sorted in a similar fashion and washed separately from jeans, t-shirts, etc.

Soup--In your opinion, what age will you be when you’ll consider yourself to truly be old?
70? I don't know. I'll be forty in a few months and still don't feel anything like "old". Old is a state of mind, I suspect.

Salad--What is one of your goals? Is it short-term, long-term, or both?
Short term: clean up a couple small debts, new laptop for STK. Long term: tenure.

Main Course--Name something unbelievable you’ve seen or read lately.
In the unbelievable--"I'm amazed!" category: It's a comet! Wait, it's a star!

In the unbelievable--are you freaking kidding me?!--category: Pentagon Spends $998,798 to Ship Two Washers.

Dessert--On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how happy are you today?
5. Not enough sleep ::grumble::

Letting Go

During my high school and college years, I earned much needed money as a lifeguard, instructor, and swim team coach. One of the most stressed lessons during Water Safety Instructor training was one of the most difficult to swallow: if the rescue gets too difficult or looks too dangerous, let the victim drown. That's good advice, really. One drowning is better than two.

Tonight, I can't help but think that same icy logic applies to the Utah mining situation. My heart aches for the lost miners and their respective friends and families, but are their lives worth the loss of others?

Rescue Disaster

Realistically, the statistical probability that the lost miners are still alive is slim to none. If/when the mine authorities decide to call off the recovery operation, they will no doubt be demonized by some factions for leaving the lost miners to their fate. I'd argue, however, that their current responsibility is to the living rather than the might be living. That position brings no amount of solace to those who face the loss of a loved one, I'm sure, but when does one say "Enough. It's time to say goodbye"?

Best of Intentions

Despite my desire to do some serious blogging during the recent Colorado getaway--we arrived back at the Fortress of Little to No Solitude around 6 PM--I obviously wasn't up to the task. What started as a "last hurrah" before the start of school mutated into something much less celebratory. Rather than spending time strolling through the Denver Botanic Gardens or the newly expanded/remodeled art museum, our time consisted of hospital visits and convalescence.

Just before leaving for our trip, we learned that STK's grandmother had encountered some health difficulties requiring a hospital stay. Somewhere on the plains of Nebraska the cell phone rang and we received awful news: pancreatic cancer. She's lived a good long life but it's still difficult to see a loved one facing a terminal illness. While in Denver, STK visited her grandmother daily. The final farewell from the hospital proved particularly difficult as we realize we may not see Grandma J when we return for the holidays.

As we said our goodbyes Tuesday afternoon, our trip took another wrong turn at Albuquerque. Early Tuesday morning, I awoke at the horrifying hour of 6 AM to go for a 10 mile run (I've been training for a half marathon at the end of the month). At about 2.5 miles I noticed I wasn't running particularly well. I typically don't run all that well in the mornings so I'm used to a few extra aches and pains for the first fifteen minutes or so. No matter how hard I tried to push my lethargy aside, I couldn't do it. I hit the five mile mark and quit. This is extremely unusual behavior for me; when I set out to run, I typically set a target: five miles, forty-five minutes, etc. Sprained ankle, heat, stomach cramps--nothing stops me from completing a run. A week ago Tuesday I packed it in, walked home, and felt off the entire morning. I ate breakfast and my bagel just sat in my stomach. And sat. And sat. My condition worsened at the hospital. I finally pulled STK aside and said, "I hate to do this, but I don't feel so great."

We hopped in the car and started the hour drive to my parents. And that's when the bug hit in full force. By the time we reached my parents, I collapsed in the spare bedroom and shivered uncontrollably. With the assistance of copious amounts of ibuprofen, I managed to keep my temperature at 102.5. Tuesday was shot, Wednesday was a day of sleep and the intermittent foray out into the world to try and spend time with my family. While I didn't have vertigo and wasn't sick to my stomach, I couldn't eat anything. Food sat in my stomach like an indigestible croquet ball. I swear I could feel the damn thing just sitting there. Anything more exotic than toast or Malt O Meal resulted in stomach cramps and other effects that I'd rather not reveal on a public blog. Let's just say that at one point we had several scented candles burning in the spare bedroom. By Friday, when the rest of the family arrived (Aunt J, Uncle G, Cousin K, Cousin-in-Law T), I was finally well enough to interact with the living. I didn't feel terrific--far from the top of my game, in fact--but I could hang out.

Friday and Saturday were spent catching up, laughing, and reminiscing, the usual family stuff. Given the cramped quarters of my parents' spacious abode (eight people living under the same rough), a good time was had by all. I think.

Despite the detours and speed bumps, the trip was worth the effort and there were many most excellent moments. A leisurely dinner with all of our Denver alternafriends was definitely one of the hight lights, as was our last minute descent into the Denver goth scene for a couple hours of dancing. While at my parents, I managed to spend a couple hours with J, a friend from high school. No matter how much time slips by, that friendship will always be one of those that survives. If you're reading, J, thanks for the Hendrix! Excellent stuff for the journey home. I even hugged my father as we said goodbye (we never hug) . . . and he returned the hug. That moment has been 20+ years in the making. We might not see eye to eye on a great many things, but seem to be able to enjoy each other's company as more time goes by. As much as I hate to admit it, that's probably a result of my maturity more than anything else.

And that brings us to the point where I need a vacation to recover from my vacation. And that isn't going to happen. As STK commences the 2007-2008 school year tomorrow (teacher in-service and what not through the end of the week), I'm back on primary care patrol with TLO. My mornings will once again be filled with talk of "bulldozers," "ghosts," and "milk!" and filled with images of Handy Manny, Elmo, and Caillou.

What the heck happened to my summer?

Mmmmm.

Kaladi Bros Coffee. Einstein Bros fruit & nut power bagel. Heaven.

Thoughts Like Breezes

Body impermanent like spring mist;
mind insubstantial like empty sky;
thoughts unestablished like breezes in space.
Think about these three points over and over.

-Adept Godrakpa, "Hermit of Go Cliffs"

Silent Running

It's been awfully quiet around here, eh? I finally finished up all my summer teaching on Thursday and I'm almost certain I won't teach again next summer. STK, who also did some teaching this summer, echoes the sentiment. Next year, we take the summer off to spend time together as a family, rest, and rejuvenate.

To celebrate the completion of another round of teaching, we participated in what I hope will be an on-going family tradition. As part of a local ethnic festival, I ran the 15K and STK & TLO walked the 5K. Considering I spent most of the last year treating a screwed up ankle and didn't really get into honest to goodness training until the last week of May, I did pretty well. Last year, I ran the race in 1:12, placed 4th in the 30-39 age group, and 44th overall. This this year, I ran the race in 1:07, placed 2nd in the 30-39 age bracket (yes, next year I'll bump up to the 40-49 group--there are some nasty fast runners in that group), and 27th overall. Next year, I'm hoping to improve my time again.

What's in store for the rest of the running season? Provided I avoid any training difficulties, I'm shooting for a half marathon at the end of August. There's also a really flat 8K at a local Oktoberfest that Dr. OneDink and I ran last year; we've talked about participating in that race again this year. More than anything, I'm thankful the previous year's ankle difficulties appear to be a thing of the past. Oh, I'll always have a little bit of pain, but nothing that should keep me on the sideline. Thank the Maker for orthotics. In other words, molded plastic kicks ass.

Fallacies!

For the better part of the afternoon I've been surfing the web, trolling library databases, and thumbing through books, all in an attempt to pull together a rhetorical theory course that meets my approval. The major problem, as I've blogged before, is the lack of a good textbook. So, I essentially make my own textbook using all the resources at my disposal. The process is incredibly time consuming, not to mention boring, but I don't know any other way to pull together the class I want to teach. Several colleagues suggested I write a textbook of my own. Great idea . . . if I had three years to spare. Someday? Maybe.

Despite the nature of the task, I manage to run across some engaging stuff (for a rhetoric geek, I suppose). I found, for example, a digital copy of Plato's Gorgias. I also stumbled across the following site--anyone who engages in public debate, of any kind, should bookmark this handy resource.

Fallacies.

This is an excellent page listing most of the major fallacies a person is likely to encounter. The format of the site is handy, too. Read it. Memorize it. Use it.

Updated Predictions

As promised, here's a run down of the predictions.

Michael has his predictions posted on All Now Mysterious...
---
Lord Mhoram offered the following:

Okay - and some are similiar to yours.

Harry's scar is a horcrux. The fabled last word of the book being scar will be something like "And Harry looked into a mirror and saw no scar"

Snape is in fact a deep cover agent, and will have a rather unpleasent death, saving the cause, but the same actions will save Harry, making Harry feel even worse about him and Snape (as after getting Snapes memory of his father).

One of the twins, and at lest 1 other of the Weasly clan will kick off. It would be pure continuing symbolism if it is dear old Dad, and Harry marries Ginny. Harry has beeen thrice orphaned, and loves the Weaslys - if Mr Weasly dies before Harry joins the family it would be sad, put fitting.

One of the major supporting cast (other than the inner circle) kicks it - I'm going for Hagrid or MgGonnigle. It could also be Ginny - depends on how depressing JKR wants to make it - but one of the closest people to Harry goes. Although Lupin just doesn't feel right for this.
---
The Alabama Hick predicts:

I hope the last Harry Potter doesn't degenerate into a shoot-em-up at the end with the "good" guys triumphant and the "bad" guys dead. We'll see if JKR really is another JRRT. I hope the "good" people realize that being "good" means they don't go around killing people - even "bad" ones. Otherwise, what, really, is the difference between the two groups?

Aside from that aside, here are my predictions.

Easy - Arthur Weasley will be the new Minister of Magic. Honest, hardworking, many years of service to the magical community.

Harder - Draco saves Harry or some other major character. Surely we are not destined to repeat the mistakes of our parents. Furthermore, he doesn't die either, but survives and tries to heal the rift between the pure and mud bloods.

Hardest - Snape. I have no idea. Damn that JKR is good!

Seeing as how I've punted on Snape, I'll have to make another prediction. Harry dies in the end. In fact, he never really lived. Harry Potter, the baby, was killed by Voldemort. Voldemort "inadvertently" created a horcrux out of Harry. The spirt of Harry is actually the good nature of Voldemort himself. That is why "neither can live while the other survives." They are the same person and they need to be made whole again. Dumbledore, of course, knew this the whole time. He sincerely cared for young Tom Riddle and wanted to help him. He also cared for older Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort, even after all the trouble.
---
Bob makes a rather cryptic prognostication:

Harry sits at a Dinner. Screen goes black, most think that the cable has "gone Out"
---

I should have my copy of the book in hand a little after midnight. We have to drive an hour away to attend one of the late night book premieres. Has there ever been a midnight release for a book before the Harry Potter series? With a little luck, and perseverance, I should be finished by Sunday. I'd probably be finished Saturday night if I could get up Saturday morning and read straight on through. With a kid and puppy in the house, that's not very likely.